


That's A Lot Of Yoghurt

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (I hope), Almost Crack, Community: avengerkink, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Loki is a cheeky shit, Prompt Fill, all Clint wants is pizza bagels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for an old avengerkink prompt where Loki basically hangs around Stark/Avengers Tower, steals things and is a bit of a pain in the ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's A Lot Of Yoghurt

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for this avengerkink prompt from aaaaages ago:
> 
> Loki gets a kick out of hanging out around the Avenger's mansion. Stealing food from the fridge, playing videogames (you know he'd rock out on Guitar Hero) and when the team shows up and is all “AAAHHH! GRAB THE WEAPONS!!!” Loki sits there and goes “...What?”  
> Bonus for him borrowing Thor's clothes *cough slash implication cough cough
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for all kudos' and comments on SSMWAP and 'Til the End of the Line, it means a lot! :D
> 
> Beta'd by sherloki19, as per usual

“Why the hell is your brother in my Tower?” Tony yells through the doorway into the kitchen. 

“WHAT?” Thor booms back, ceasing his food preparation. 

“Loki, what the hell are you doing in my Tower?” 

“I was minding my own business until you barged in,” Loki retorts. 

“IT'S MY TOWER!” Tony points out vehemently, “And you're wanted in like five countries!”

“It's actually eight, sir,” JARVIS interjects politely. 

“Ooh, notorious,” Loki says mildly. Thor runs to the doorway, nearly tripping over one of Tony's cleaner bots. It beeps agitatedly. 

“Apologies, my small friend,” Thor says to the robot, which seems appeased, before peering through the doorway at where his brother is lounging on the cream-coloured couch, apparently channel-surfing. Thor does not understand how clicking buttons on a remote is related to a water-based sport but has been assured that it is so. “Brother, what are you doing here?” Thor sees Tony make a subtle hand gesture, presumably to JARVIS, and assumes that the other Avengers will be arriving soon.

“Merely,” Loki waves a hand lazily, “Relaxing.” 

“What, no plots? No evil schemes? No horse heads in bed linen or anything?” Tony asks, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 

Loki takes on an expression of repulsion, his nose wrinkling slightly. “Why would I ever harm any equine creature?” 

Tony looks lost – Thor thinks he may be struggling for a 'comeback', as Clint calls them. Thor will have to tell him the tale of Sleipnir later. “Loki, why are you here?” 

“Will you never listen to me, Thor?” Loki stretches, catlike. “I am relaxing. This is as good a place as any, by Midgardian standards.” 

“But-” Thor is interrupted by Steve bursting through the door of the lift in full Captain America uniform, shield in hand, an Iron Man suit following him through and then overtaking him to wrap itself around Tony, who stands with his limbs outstretched for it. Thor automatically summons Mjolnir at the sight, who punches her way through the floor to his hand. Loki groans as Natasha and Clint arrive, both in loose workout clothes but Natasha with her Widow's Bites and Clint with his bow. They climb through the hole in the metal lift door and Clint swears as he catches his thumb on a ragged edge, Natasha (of course) navigating the dangers with ease. 

“Can a god not just sit somewhere without harrassment?” Loki complains, flickering out of sight as he finishes his sentence. 

“What the hell was that?” Clint asks. 

Tony shakes his head and says, voice electronically altered through the helmet, “Not a clue. J?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Next time tell me when there's a genocidal, possibly-psychopathic Norse God in my Tower, if it's not too much trouble.”

“Of course, sir.” 

~ 

A few weeks later, when they're all gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Clint asks “Who ate all the pizza bagels?” with a disgruntled sigh, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

The rest of them shrug sleepily, only half-awake. Clint settles for coffee and some leftover pizza, grumbling about how it's missing a certain 'bagel-y' quality. However, when he reaches for one of the slices on his plate there's no pizza on it anymore. 

“What the f- who is stealing my food? Nat?” Natasha looks up halfway through eating a granola bar and shakes her head, a smudge of yesterday's mascara across her cheekbone. As she goes to take another bite her teeth clack together – there's nothing there. Natasha swears in what's most likely Russian, although it could be any of the many languages she's fluent in.

“What's happening?” Bruce asks cautiously, cupping a hand protectively around his blueberry smoothie as Tony does the same to his coffee.

Thor summons Mjolnir from where she hangs on the handle of the PopTart cupboard. This reminds him of several instances throughout his youth where Loki would turn himself invisible to tease visiting nobles by stealing their food or occasionally certain embarrassing items of clothing (which he would hang from Asgard's highest towers, so they flapped in the breeze like flags). “Loki?” he says, testing. There is a sudden, noticeable decline in temperature, so Thor presses on. “Cease this mischief!” 

“But eating is so much more delightful when the food is stolen.” Loki's voice comes from everywhere and nowhere, playful as Bruce says, “Damn,” and peers into his now empty smoothie cup with a dejected expression. He stands, running one hand through his bed-messy hair, and opens the fridge for more blueberries. “Damn,” he says again, dumping an empty blueberry punnet on the table. “Call me if you need the other guy.” With that he trudges out of the room, presumably to his lab. 

“Loki, stop this!” Thor commands, Mjolnir humming agreement in his hand.

“Why should I?” Loki says from on top of the fridge, long legs dangling over the edge and crossed at the ankle. He eats a spoonful of yoghurt. 

“My yoghurt,” Steve notes, putting down his spoon as he looks at his suddenly empty hand. 

“It's delicious,” Loki says approvingly, eating another spoonful. 

Steve mutters “Yeah, I know,” as Tony says, “JARVIS? The protocol we discussed last night, please.” 

“It would be my pleasure, sir,” JARVIS responds. There's a quiet beeping noise, and Loki clutches his head with a howl of pain, dropping the yoghurt. It spatters across his lower legs and the floor, and Kitchy – the designated kitchen-cleaning bot, unimaginatively named by Clint – beeps condescendingly at him as it cleans up the spillage. 

“What are you doing?” Thor cries, running to Loki. “What is this?” 

“I'm testing a magic-suppressant forcefield,” Tony explains. “It's in development at the moment, but looks to be working.” 

“Don't jinx it,” Clint mutters, just as Loki falls off the fridge and straight through the floor. The Avengers make various noises of shock and confusion, and Tony calls to JARVIS, “Is he still in the Tower?”

“No, sir. His heat signature and radiation output have disappeared.”

“Who's up for grocery shopping?” Clint says brightly. “I'm all outta pizza bagels!”

~

“Sir?” 

Tony touches his earpiece as the others buy hotdogs from that little stand by Central Park. “What's up, J?” 

“Mustard?” Steve calls over, waving a yellow bottle. Tony shakes his head.

“Loki is in Avengers' Tower,” JARVIS explains. “What course of action do you want me to take?”

Tony sighs, eyeing up the hotdog Steve is holding towards him. “What's he doing?” 

“He appears to be playing 'Guitar Hero', sir. He's rather good at it.” 

For a second Tony is flummoxed, but the promise of a hotdog is enough to get him making a quick decision. “Okay, if he starts doing anything I wouldn't like or beats my highscore activate the forcefield and any additional security measures that are necessary.”

“Your wish is my command, Mr Stark,” JARVIS quips, and Tony grins. 

“Attaboy, J. And make sure you send the camera footage to my private server.” 

“Already uploading it, sir.”

~

“Morning,” Steve says to the figure lying on the sofa, not bothering to check who it is beyond 'humanoid'.

“Morning,” Loki replies, twisting his legs off the sofa and stretching. He stands and Steve feels a moment of 'I should be doing something about this' until he notices something. 

“Is that Thor's shirt?” 

Loki twists the blue plaid in his hands, stroking the material as it drapes over his thin frame and reaches mid-thigh. Without Thor's bulky muscles the shirt is loose and it doesn't look like he's wearing anything underneath – Steve averts his eyes, this is Thor's adopted brother. 

“Yes, it is,” Loki says simply. “There's more of your yoghurt in the chilling device, to replace the one I ate.” 

“Thanks?” Steve says. “Why're you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Loki asks, appearing a little thrown by the subject change. A lock of his hair is wavy, drifting across his face; he hasn't slicked it back today. 

“Hanging out in the Tower, not destroying anything, being... nice, I guess. Take your pick.” 

“I am tired of being the Lie-Smith, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Loki says, playing with one of his shirt's buttons. “It is exhausting, being the God of Trickery and Chaos – I am, as you Midgardians say, holding out an olive branch to you. I enjoy this Tower, the things it has to offer, and I intend to make use of it for as long as I wish. You cannot stop me, not with your strength or with any forcefield.” Loki tilts his chin upwards slightly, dignity radiating from him almost tangibly. It's quite impressive. “I mean you no harm.”

“Alright,” Steve says, opening the fridge. “That's a lot of yoghurt.” There's three shelves full of the stuff, enough to last him at least a week and a half. “Thanks. If you're lying – which you probably are, I'm old not stupid – then we will defeat you and defend both ourselves and this whole planet again, just so you're aware.” 

“It's reassuring to know that we are still 'on the same page', Captain,” Loki replies, suddenly eating a yoghurt. “Have a pleasant day.” He vanishes as Thor enters the room, sleep-mussed and shirtless. 

“I cannot find my favourite shirt,” he murmurs in place of a greeting, “Which is strange, because I wore it only yesterday when I went to visit the nearby museum.”

“Weird,” Steve says, eating a spoonful of yoghurt. “I wonder where it's got to.”

~

It becomes almost routine, finding Loki in the Tower. JARVIS no longer alerts Tony, merely keeping a watchful eye on their intruder as he explores, steals food and routinely beats highscores on almost every game they own. Clint hasn't got used to it – this is the guy who controlled his brain for weeks, made him kill his own colleagues and nearly kill Natasha – but he deals with it by throwing things at Loki whenever he sees him. 

He stops throwing things after a closer encounter, where he glares into Loki's eyes and then falters, the beer bottle in his hand staying there. “Hey, weren't your eyes blue before?” 

“Yes, for a short while,” Loki says, blasé. 

“Why'd they change?” Clint asks, and Loki pauses before replying. 

“A monster repeatedly hit me in the head,” he replies, then blinks out of sight. Clint begins to understand the implications of what Loki has just told him. 

“Fuck,” he says to the empty air.

They get on a little better after that.

Tony gets ridiculously competitive – “Oh come on, there's no way you aren't cheating! How can you be better than me at MarioKart when you've never even driven a car!” – and Thor becomes painfully attentive when Loki visits, despite Loki's standoffishness in his presence. Steve is cautiously optimistic, talking often to Loki about cultural and media references they both don't understand but keeping a knife on him at all times, just in case; Loki and Natasha swap kill-tips and occasionally beauty tips, Loki teaching Natasha how to do a certain type of Asgardian braiding at one point (under Thor's supervision – she doesn't trust the Trickster yet), and Clint generally avoids conversation, unsure of how to deal with the new information he's been given. Bruce stays well away, because apparently every time he sees Loki the Hulk says SMASH PUNY GOD in the back of his mind and he really doesn't want to hurt anyone, not even Loki.

Loki plays pranks from time to time – turns water into paint and paint into water, wine into vinegar and yoghurt into blood – but nothing life-threatening or truly malicious (and he changed the blood back into yoghurt once he had laughed for a minute at Steve's horrified expression). The Avengers are all still waiting for the turning point, the moment where Loki decides that he has rested enough, played enough, and takes back up the mantle of Lie-Smith and Silvertongue and Destroyer of Worlds, but in the meantime there is fun to be had.

And oh, do they have it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for the title there was just a lot of yoghurt in this fic and I couldn't help myself


End file.
